Under the Israeli Moonlight

98 3 4
                                    

The time was 11 PM. The hoarse words, "Thank you, Tel Aviv!" vibrated through the whole city. Joshua Bassett placed his mic back in its stand and ran to the side of the stage, his sweat glistening in the dimming bright stage lights and the Israeli moonlight, his white tank top and chocolate curls drenched in the sweet liquid.

"Wow! Great concert, Joshua!" was yelled out by stage crew members left, right, and center.

"Thanks," he would humbly mutter.

A small man in black clothes and a walkie-talkie stood shyly in front of Joshua. His physique paled in comparison to Joshua's tall muscular figure.

"Mr. Bassett, there are some people waiting to meet you backstage."

"Great!" he said. "I'll be there in a second."

He grabbed a plastic water bottle and walked to a small crowd of screaming fans asking for autographs.

"All right, all right, one by one," and he started signing each of the pictures with a black sharpie with his beautiful name.

And as he was taking a sip of water, he heard it.

"Are you ready to leave, Avner?" a beautiful baritone voice from behind him asked. Joshua turned. His eyes grew wider. His jaw dropped and the water in his mouth spilled onto the ground. "Awooga!" He was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen. Benjamin Netanyahu stood tall and powerful, and in Joshua's eyes, beautiful.

"One second, Papa," said Avner in a little voice. "He hasn't signed my picture yet."

Joshua quickly grabbed Avner's picture and signed it as fast as he could.

"Here you go."

Netanyahu took a step forward, reaching out his hand to Joshua.

"Benjamin Netanyahu, Prime Minister of Israel. Pleasure to meet you."

He grabbed Netanyahu's giant beautiful hand. He had such a firm, sexy handshake. Joshua was at a loss for words.

"J-J-Josh-Joshua," he giggled.

Netanyahu Lie Lie LiesWhere stories live. Discover now